Tangled Web
by LovinFace
Summary: Story complete. Chapters 8 and 9 are up. Takes place after Without Reservations. Face receives some bad news as he recovers from the shootout. Hannibal begins to formulate a plan. But all is not as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just fantasize that I do.**

**Feedback: Please, but be nice. I'm rather sensitive :-) **

**Tangled Web**

Hannibal Smith paced the floor of his gilded cage in Langley. He chewed on the end of his cigar as he paced. BA Baracas, sitting on the couch, followed Hannibal's path with his eyes.

"Hannibal, I ain't seen you like this in long time. What's eatin' at cha man?"

Hannibal turned on his heel to face BA. He mouthed the words, "Not here," and continued to pace.

BA slowly rose and walked toward the bathroom. "Well, if you ain't gonna talk, I'm gonna grab a shower, maybe watch the fights tonight." He continued toward the bathroom and closed the door. A minute later he turned on the shower and waited.

Hannibal walked to the bathroom and slowly opened the door. He whispered to BA, "Stockwell just informed me that Ellen Bancroft is dead. Killed in a car accident. I know I've got to tell Face, but the doctors said he needed to avoid stress…hell, he hasn't even been home from the hospital a week."

BA sighed. "He's got to be told Hannibal. It's better that he hears it from one of us instead of Stockwell."

"You're right. But there's one hitch." Hannibal pulled a folded piece of pink paper from his pocket and handed it to BA. "It's from Ellen. Read it."

BA unfolded the letter and read, his face turning into a scowl as he read. "Is this true?"

Hannibal sighed. "I believe her, BA. Why would she lie? And if what she wrote is true, then I don't believe her car accident was an accident at all. I think she was murdered."

BA put his hand on Hannibal's shoulder. "We gotta get outta here Hannibal. You need to come up with a plan." BA knew he was expressing the obvious, but he simply couldn't be silent.

Hannibal nodded and slowly opened the door. He placed the letter back in his pocket and mouthed, "I'm working on it." He slipped out of the bathroom and down the hall to the den.

Face was lying on the couch, having a fitful sleep. Murdock sat in a chair across from Face, watching, waiting, his brows knitted together in concern. Hannibal tapped Murdock's shoulder, causing him to be startled. "Hannibal, you scared me. Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry Murdock. Listen, you got a minute? I'd like to talk to you."

Murdock nodded his head no. "No can do Hannibal. Somebody's got to stay with Face. Sometimes he starts having nightmares, and somebody's gotta wake him up. We can't let him pull his stitches out."

Hannibal pulled out Ellen's letter and handed it to Murdock. He bent to Murdock's ear and whispered, "Read this. But don't make a sound."

Murdock unfolded the pink paper and began to read.

_Hannibal,_

_I'm sending this to you instead of Face because I don't want to do anything to endanger his recovery. I'm writing to let you know that Face's life is in danger. I can't go into details, but I have reason to believe that the shooting at Villa Cucina was no accident. My sources tell me that it is true that the Attorney General was to be assassinated. However, Face was to be killed as well. I'm aware that your house is bugged, and I know you are too. Seems that once Face and Frankie decided to go to Villa Cucina, the contract was renegotiated for a "bonus" hit -- Face. My source tells me that Stockwell ordered the hit. Tell Face I'm still getting used to having a big brother—and I like it, so don't do anything foolish. Tell him I love him. Please keep him safe. I'll try to get more information to you as I can. _

_  
Ellen_

Murdock slowly folded the paper and handed it back to Hannibal, his expression grim. His thoughts went back to Ellen and Face, standing at the gravesite of their father. Face had told Ellen that day that he was her brother. He had expected rejection, but instead Ellen had simply pulled Face into an embrace, not speaking, just accepting him into her life. They were still learning about each other, but the bond created that day appeared to be a strong one.

Hannibal spoke softly, pulling Murdock out of his thoughts. "Stockwell just told me that Ellen was killed in a car accident yesterday."

Murdock snapped his head toward Face. He slowly turned to Hannibal. "We gotta tell him Colonel. He's got to know the truth."

Hannibal placed his hand on Murdock's shoulder. "We'll tell him when he wakes up."

Hannibal walked toward his room, shoulders slumped, head downcast. Murdock knew that telling Face his sister was dead would be one of the hardest things he's ever had to do. Murdock also knew that the colonel was formulating a plan to get them out of Langley. Though Murdock was free to come and go as he pleased, he would go with the team. They were his family.

Face began to mumble in his sleep. The words were slurred and Murdock couldn't make them out. He went to Face's side and began to stroke his hair. "Shhh. It's okay Face. It's okay." Face turned his head toward Murdock's voice, never awakening. Murdock continued to stroke Face's hair.

Murdock looked at the face of his best friend. What was it about the man this man that caused everyone to want to protect him? Face was strong. He could take care of himself. But there was a vulnerability about him…you could see it in his eyes if you looked fast enough. Face was an expert at hiding his emotions. But Murdock, BA, and Hannibal had all caught a glimpse of the real Face throughout the years.

All his life Face wanted a family. Sure, he had found one in the A-Team. Yet sometimes that wasn't enough. When the team went to see BA's mother, Face would become sullen, no doubt wondering what it would have been like if he had been raised by his mother instead of the sisters in the orphanage. And while everyone considered BA the member with a weak spot for children, Face was right up there with him. They had even helped a man keep his foster home free of charge, with Face's blessing. Then he met his father, AJ Bancroft, and his half-sister Ellen. Though he never really had a father-son talk with AJ, he could reflect on things the man had told him, a halfway apology as Face put it. Face would call Ellen at her home in Florida weekly just to see how she was doing, having "normal family" conversations. Face took his role as big brother seriously…from offering financial advice to teasing her about her dates.

Frankie Santana walked into the den, a cup of coffee in his hand. "Hey, Murdock. I thought you could use a cup. Why don't you go rest up a while? I can stay with Face." Frankie offered the coffee to Murdock. Murdock took the cup from Frankie and took a sip. "Thanks, Frankie. I'm okay though. I'm really not tired. I need to be here when he wakes up. We got some bad news."

Frankie frowned. "What's wrong, Murdock? Face's is going to be okay isn't he? I thought the doctors said he'd be fine as long as we didn't let him overdo it."

"Yeah, he'll be fine. It's just….well, we got some bad news. We're going to tell him when he wakes up." Murdock took another sip of coffee.

"Tell me what?"

Frankie and Murdock turned toward the voice from the couch. Face was awake. "Tell me what?"

Murdock spoke first. "Frankie, why don't you get Hannibal and BA , okay?"

Frankie nodded and went down the hall. He knocked on Hannibal's door. Hannibal opened the door slowly. "He awake?"

"Yeah."

"Tell BA."

Frankie walked down to BA's room. BA opened the door before Frankie could knock. "I heard. Let's go."

BA, Hannibal, and Frankie walked back into the den. Murdock had pulled his chair a little closer to where Face lay on the couch. Face was obviously becoming agitated.

"C'mon Murdock. Tell me what's going on. You're obviously keeping something from me. I thought we were past doing that. Just tell me the truth." Face tried to sit up, but the sudden movement caused a spasm of pain and he fell back against the pillow.

Hannibal spoke. "Face, there's something you need to know. God, how do I do this?" He walked over to Face and knelt on the floor. Putting his hand on Face's shoulder, he said quietly, "Face, Ellen was killed in a car accident. I'm sorry."

Face said nothing, the words pouring through his mind. Ellen was dead? That couldn't be. He had just spoken to her a week ago. She couldn't be dead. He had just found her. He turned his head toward the back of the couch, still saying nothing.

BA walked over to Face and placed his hand on Face's hand. "I'm sorry about your sister, Face."

Face turned toward BA. "Could you help me to my room? I want to be alone."

BA looked at Hannibal, who nodded. "Sure thing. Let's get you up." BA pulled back the covers and he and Hannibal helped Face sit up.

Murdock joined them. "Face, I'm so sorry. What can I do?"

"Nothing. I just need to be alone." Face looked up at Murdock, a faint smile crossed his face. "Really, Murdock. I'll be okay. I just need to be alone."

BA put Face's right arm around his neck. He placed his arm around Face's waist and helped him toward the bedroom, followed by Hannibal.

Frankie had gone ahead and pulled the covers down on Face's bed. He stood silently as BA helped Face into bed. Hannibal pulled the covers up to Face's shoulders. "You sure you don't want one of us to stay?"

"Yeah, thanks Hannibal. I'll be okay." Face turned toward the wall, and Hannibal could see how hard Face was trying to stay composed. Hannibal patted BA on the back. "Let's go BA." He turned to Face, "If you need anything, you just call, okay?" Then he turned to Frankie. "Come on Frank."

The men walked toward the door. Frankie turned back and said, "I'm sorry Face."

Face nodded his head, then turned back toward the wall. He could hear his friends leave, shutting the door behind them. Finally alone, Face closed his eyes and thought of Ellen. Then he began to cry.

BA and Frankie had gone back to the den. Hannibal stood outside Face's door. He could hear Face crying. Every fiber of his being wanted to go comfort Face, but he knew that Face just needed to be alone right now. Hannibal stayed at the door, listening for any sign from Face that he needed help.

XXXXXXXX

"Well, how did he take it?"

"He's crying, General. It's really rather touching."

Stockwell smiled. "I'm sure it is, Ellen. I'm sure it is."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Face had insisted that he was going to the funeral. Hannibal knew that traveling with Face would be a nightmare. He could barely sit, yet alone stand. But he also knew how important it was for Face to say good-bye to his sister. Stockwell had objected at first, of course, but Hannibal refused to back down and so Stockwell arranged for them to take a private jet to Florida. BA was not happy with this arrangement, but he decided that for Face's sake he would tuck his fears away. And so three days after learning of Ellen's death, the team flew to Florida to say a final good-bye.

Face sat stoically throughout the graveside service. He sat between Hannibal and BA. Murdock and Frankie stood behind him, Murdock's hand on his shoulder. After the service, well wishers shook Face's hand, told him they were sorry. Face just stared at the casket, unable to speak.

After the service, the team headed back to the hotel where Stockwell had arranged for them to have a three-bedroom suite, complete with two Abels standing guard outside the door. BA had found three bugs throughout the suite and had promptly disposed of them.

Face lay on the couch, his brow furled in pain. Hannibal took him a glass of water and some of his pain medicine. "Take this, Face. You look like you're about to fall over."

Face took the pills without protest, a testament to the amount of pain he was in. Hannibal reached out for him. "C'mon, Son, let's get you to bed. We don't want you to end up in the hospital again. I think Murdock has laid out some pajamas for you." Hannibal pulled Face up from the couch and helped him to one of the bedrooms. "Let us know if you need anything." Hannibal closed the door.

Face retrieved the pajamas Murdock had laid out on one of the chairs. He slowly pulled of his suit and slipped into the pajamas. He slowly slid into bed and pulled up the covers. He began thinking about AJ and Ellen. The medicine began to take affect and he drifted off to sleep.

Hannibal opened the door slowly and looked in on Face. Seeing he was asleep, he left the door ajar so that he or one of the team could check on Face periodically.

Frankie, Murdock and BA had gathered on the balcony, waiting for Hannibal to join them. Hannibal walked out, loosening his tie. "Well, he's asleep. I left the door cracked and we'll leave this door open as well so we can hear if he needs anything."

BA spoke first. "We need a plan Hannibal. I ain't doing another mission for Stockwell. Why did he try to kill Face? I don't understand it."

Hannibal thought for a moment. "I'm working on a plan. But it's not just the escaping part we have to think about. We have to have a place to go. I'm not worried about money. Face has seen to it that we're set in that area. As for why Stockwell would want Face dead….I don't know. I mean, they obviously can't stand one another. None of us likes Stockwell, but Face has never had trouble voicing his opinion to Stockwell's face. But that's no reason to kill him. Ellen must have found the reason. We've got to find out who her source was and find out too."

"And how do we do that?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal smiled. "We order room service."

XXXXXXX

Stockwell and Ellen Bancroft watched the funeral from the comforts of their limousine.

Ellen spoke first, "You know, it really is touching how hard Face is taking my death. I didn't realize he was so fond of me."

Stockwell snaked a smile across his face. "He's not the only one, Darling. You are going to be able to see this through aren't you? If you have any doubts, you need to voice them now. If you change your mind midstream, I can't guarantee your safety."

Ellen snuggled up to Stockwell, running her finger up and down his chest. "Oh, I'll see it through General. You don't have to worry about that. After all, it's not like he's really my brother now, is it?"

"True, true. My, you are a conniving one aren't you? You're father would be proud."

Ellen frowned. "Yes, I suppose he would. But I don't really care what he would think about me. Any man who would leave his family the way he did….Well, it doesn't matter now. What matters now is that we have the complete diary of my father's works. The power is ours, General. And so is the A-Team."

Stockwell reached across for a bottle of champagne. After opening the bottle, he poured two glasses and handed one to Ellen. "Here's a toast. To phase two. Let the games begin."

Ellen raised her glass, "To phase two."

XXXXXX

It took two men to bring up the room service order placed by the team. The Abels at the front door inspected the food and the waiters before letting them wheel in the carts.

"Goody, goody. Looks like we've got a feast. C'mon Frankie, let's try some of this black stuff!" Murdock grinned toward Frankie.

Hannibal looked at the "black stuff." He smiled at Murdock. "That's caviar, Murdock. I figure since Stockwell's footing the bill, we should eat like kings."

Frankie spread some caviar on a cracker and smelled it. "I don't know Johnny. You sure this stuff is good?"

Murdock, whose mouth was full of caviar, spoke, "Itth good Fwankie. Twy it."

BA stood across the room near Face's room, just watching Murdock and Frankie, shaking his head at the exchange of whether they should eat caviar or not. Hannibal approached him. "Okay, they're inspecting the waiters, the food, the cart. So we won't be able to sneak out that way. And just because we know of the two at the door, doesn't mean there aren't more in the lobby, the garage, who knows where."

BA looked at Hannibal. "Sounds like the only choice we got is to go through the front door."

Hannibal pulled a cigar out of his pocket. "That's what I was thinking. Here's what we're going to do."

Hannibal and BA formulated a plan as Frankie and Murdock dined on caviar and lobster. All were so lost in what they were doing, they didn't notice Face enter the room.

Face cleared his throat. "Umm Guys?"

Four faces turned to face him.

Face continued. "Guys, listen. I just wanted to thank you for coming here with me."

Murdock spoke first. "No problem, Faceman. We all liked Ellen too. We're your family. There's no where else we want to be." Murdock lifted the lid off one of the trays. "Look here, Face. Hannibal ordered some smoked salmon for you – it's one of your favorites!"

Face walked over to a table by the window and sat slowly in the chair. Frankie carried the tray of salmon to him.

"Thanks, Frankie. Could I get a glass of wine too?"

Hannibal shook his head. "No you don't, Face. You're still on pain medication. You know you can't have alcohol."

"But Hannibal, one glass—"

"No, Face. How about some water, or some tea?" Hannibal smiled. Face's whining was actually music to his ears after the events of the last few weeks.

"Fine. Water. At least I get to eat some real food." Face placed a napkin on his lap and picked up the silverware. He began to eat. "This is really good. You know, I could get used to eating like this…." Face stopped.

Murdock ran over to him. "Face, what's wrong? You okay?"

Face was turning red. "I….can't…..breathe…." He stood up abruptly, his hands around his throat.

Murdock yelled, "He's choking!"

Face fell to the floor. Hannibal tilted Face's head back and opened his mouth. Face was still struggling to breathe. Hannibal put a finger in Face's mouth and swiped his throat. He couldn't see or feel anything that Face might have choked on. Face's breathing was becoming ragged now. "Frankie, call an ambulance."

BA knelt beside Face, preparing to pick him up. "There ain't no time for that, Hannibal. I say we take him in now." He picked up Face and headed toward the door. Murdock ran ahead and opened the door. The Abels immediately turned and blocked the doorway.

BA snarled, "Out of my way. I've got to get him to the hospital."

The Abels looked at each other. Hannibal pushed his way through. "You can ride with us if you want, but we're taking him to the hospital. NOW!"

Hannibal ran to the elevators. BA was carrying Face, Murdock and Frankie trailing behind him. The Abels followed.

Minutes later the party made their way through the lobby. Hannibal yelled to a cabbie in one of the taxis out front. "You. We need to get to the nearest hospital!" Hannibal opened the back door and BA slid in, clinging to Face. Hannibal jumped in the front seat. Frankie, Murdock, and the Abels commandeered another taxi.

"How much further to the hospital?" Hannibal asked anxiously.

"We're less than a mile away." The cabbie replied.

Suddenly, the raspy breathing of Face stopped. BA yelled, "He's stopped breathing, Hannibal."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Hannibal crashed through the emergency room doors, BA behind him with a limp Face in his arms. A nurse grabbed a gurney and BA placed Face on it.

"He stopped breathing about a minute ago." Hannibal told the nurse. A doctor ran out of an exam room and started barking out orders as they wheeled Face into a room.

Hannibal and BA stood there, watching the doors go back and forth, back and forth. Hannibal put his hand on BA's shoulder. "C'mon BA. Let's go to the waiting room. Murdock and Frankie should be here any minute."

XXXXXXX

Ellen stepped out of the shower and dried off before putting on her red silk robe. She walked into the living room. Stockwell was sitting on the couch, looking through some files. Ellen sat on the couch, taking the files from Stockwell's hands and placing them on the coffee table.

"All work and no play, General?" she teased.

Stockwell pulled her toward him and kissed her. "Now, now. I was just keeping busy while I waited on you. Phase two has begun, and I was just preparing for phase three."

Ellen smiled as she unbuttoned the top buttons on Stockwell's shirt. "Well, I say we take a break from the planning and have a little fun." She began kissing his mouth, then his neck.

"You are going to be the death of me, Ellen." Stockwell untied Ellen's robe and began caressing her. "Let's go into the bedroom." He whispered.

Ellen stood, letting the robe fall around her feet. She offered her hand to Stockwell, and led him into the bedroom.

XXXXXX

Dr. Cade Bentley entered the waiting room where Hannibal, BA, Frankie, and Murdock had practically taken over. Hannibal started to stand, but the doctor motioned for him to stay seated. He pulled up a chair across from the four men.

"Your friend is going to be fine. But it was touch and go for a while. First of all, I want you to know that you can speak freely with me. I know that your friend is Templeton Peck and that you are the A-Team. I can assure you that no one else here knows. I have him listed as "Tim Smith" in the records. That said, according to our toxicology tests, he overdosed on a narcotic, causing his respiratory functions to slow down and then cease. Have you noticed any signs of depression lately?"

Hannibal replied, a tinge of anger in his voice. "Face did not try to kill himself, Doctor. In fact, he's only had two of his pain pills in the last 12 hours. I gave them to him myself."

Dr. Bentley sighed. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that the level of narcotics in his system is what is seen in suicide attempts. Do you have his pain medication with you by chance? I'd like to have it analyzed."

Hannibal dug into his jacket pocket and retrieved the bottle of pills. He handed it to Dr. Bentley. "When can we see him, Doc?"

Dr. Bentley put the pills in the pocket of his lab coat. "You can see him in a few minutes, but there are some other things you need to know." Dr. Bentley ran his hand absently through his graying hair and then continued. "Templeton suffered a seizure in the emergency room and aspirated, so we have him on a ventilator. I assure you it is only temporary. I also noticed signs of infection from a surgical wound and have started him on antibiotics. He's going to be 'out of it' for a while, but you can see him for a few minutes."

Dr. Bentley stood and extended his hand to each man. "I'll be checking in with you in a little while. Now, go see Templeton. He's in room 212."

"Thanks, Doc. For everything." Hannibal said. Then he and the rest of the team headed toward room 212.

XXXXXX

Room 212 was quiet except for the rhythmic breathing produced by the ventilator and the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Hannibal entered the room first, followed by BA, Murdock, and then Frankie.

Face lay still in the bed. The covers were pulled waist high, and the new bandage that had been placed on Face's surgical wound already had drainage seeping through. Hannibal took his fingers and laced them through Face's hair. "Hang in there Kid. You're going to be just fine. Doc says you'll be chasing the nurses in no time."

BA spoke to Face. "Hey, Little Brother, you really scared me, man. But you're going to be okay, I promise you. You just rest and get better."

After BA retreated from the bedside, Murdock walked up and took Face's hand in his own. "You gotta wake up soon Face. You've just got to."

Frankie walked up, not knowing really what to say. "Hey, Face. Listen, you're going to be okay."

Hannibal placed his hand on Face's shoulder. "We've got to go now, Son, but we'll be back first thing in the morning. You just rest."

One more glance over his shoulder, and Hannibal left, followed by the rest of the team.

XXXXXX

It was dark, save for a small florescent light over the bed. Face slowly opened his eyes, trying to take in his surroundings. He tried to speak, but couldn't because of the tube down his throat. Frantically, his eyes darted around the room.

"Don't worry. You'll be all right."

Face tried to focus in the direction of the voice. He could only see the outline of someone in the corner of the room.

"That's it. It's okay. I'm here for you."

Face squinted at the figure in the dark, who was now approaching him out of the shadows. A hand reached for his IV and injected something from a syringe into the tubing. Face felt his chest tighten. The respirator alarms began to sound, followed by the shrill of the heart monitor. His mind tried to wrap itself around what was happening to him. The last thing Face saw before slipping into unconsciousness was a glimpse of the shadow's smiling face.

XXXXX

"I take it phase two is now complete."

"Yes, General. If Face isn't dead yet, he soon will be." Ellen laughed.

"Very good. If all goes according to plan, we can begin phase three by next week." Stockwell smiled and pulled Ellen onto his lap. "They'll never know what hit them."

XXXXX

Hannibal and the guys had returned to the waiting room after visiting hours ended. BA and Hannibal were huddled in a corner of the room coming up with a new plan that now included taking care of a very ill Face. Murdock was stretched out on one of the couches, his right arm dangling off the side, his baseball cap pulled over his eyes. Frankie sat in a chair, reading a three-year-old entertainment magazine.

_Code blue. Room 212. Code blue. Room 212._

The team jumped up and ran down the hall toward Face's room. A nurse pushed in a cart with a defibrillator. Another was performing CPR on Face. A respiratory therapist was monitoring the ventilator. Dr. Bentley, followed by another doctor Hannibal did not know, ran down the hall, pushing Hannibal aside as he entered Face's room. Hannibal could barely see Face through all the medical personnel surrounding his bed.

He could make out Dr. Bentley's voice above the others in the room:

"Asystole."

"Give me 400 watt seconds."

"Hit him again."

"Damn it, son, fight!"

Then another voice.

"Cade, let him go. We've lost him."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

"Damn it, Ian, I'll crack his chest if I have to, " shouted Dr. Bentley. "I'm not giving up on him. Now either help or get out!"

Ian was about to speak when Murdock burst into the room. "NOOOO! Don't die Face. Don't die!"

Dr. Bentley shouted. "Get him out of here!" He turned back to Face. "I'm gonna hit him one more time – 400 watt seconds."

Nurses headed for Murdock. Before they could reach him BA pulled him out of the room, into the hallway. Hannibal stood against the wall, using it to hold himself up. BA ushered Murdock down the hall, to the waiting room, Frankie following behind.

Hannibal couldn't leave. He had to stay. Face was fighting for his life. He turned slowly, leaning against the doorframe, watching the activity in Face's room.

Dr. Bentley was hovering over Face, the defibrillator paddles in his hands. He placed them on Face's chest.

"Clear."

Face's body jerked.

The room was silent.

Hannibal held his breath.

Then he heard it.

The heart monitor had begun to "beep."

Dr. Bentley watched the monitor for a minute. Nurses collected vital signs.

Ian slapped Dr. Bentley on the back. "Nice going, Cade. I thought we lost him."

Dr. Bentley looked down at Face. "It's not over yet, but he's a fighter. Now all we can do is wait." He turned toward the door. Seeing Hannibal in the doorway, he walked over to him. "Why don't you go to the waiting room? I'll be there soon."

Hannibal let out the breath he had been holding. He headed toward the waiting room.

XXXXXXX

Murdock sat in a green plastic chair, rocking back and forth, sobbing. BA was standing beside him, his hands on Murdock's shoulders.

Frankie whispered to BA, "What can I do?"

"Ain't nothing you can do. We just gotta be strong for Murdock. Losing Face is like losing part of himself." BA choked back a sob. "I can't believe he's gone."

"He's not."

BA and Frankie turned toward the voice. Hannibal walked over to the men. He knelt down and placed his hands on Murdock's knees. "Murdock, he's not dead. You hear me? He's not dead."

Murdock stopped rocking. He rubbed his eyes with his palms. "Face…isn't…..dead?"

Hannibal stood. "No, he isn't dead. They were able to get him back. Dr. Bentley is going to come talk with us soon. Now, why don't you go wash your face before he gets here? Frankie, how bout you go get us some coffee?"

Frankie, thankful for something to do, replied, "Sure thing, Johnny." He turned to Murdock, "C'mon Murdock, I'll walk with you to the restroom." Frankie draped his arm around Murdock's shoulders and they both walked down the hall.

Hannibal sat heavily on the couch. BA remained standing. "I don't know how much more of this Face can take, BA. When I saw Dr. Bentley shock him and his body jerked…He was dead BA!" A tear slid down Hannibal's cheek.

BA sat beside Hannibal. "He's gonna get through this, Hannibal. We all are. You just gotta believe."

Hannibal nodded. He patted BA's thigh. "Thanks BA." Hannibal was grateful for BA's strength, not just physical strength but mental strength as well. Back in Vietnam, BA had appointed himself protector of the team, especially Face and Murdock. It was a role he took seriously.

Hannibal and BA sat on the couch in silence, waiting for the doctor, hoping for good news about Face. Neither man could picture the A-Team without Face.

XXXXXXXX

"Damn it!" The phone was slammed down.

Ellen could hear Stockwell in the other room. She pulled back the covers and slipped back into her robe. She walked into the living room. Stockwell was sitting in an overstuffed chair, his hands clenched into a fist. "What's wrong?"

"He's still alive. Damn it, Ellen, didn't you put the whole syringe of morphine in the line?"

"Yes, General. I put the whole thing in, just like you said." Ellen's voice trembled.

Stockwell stood. "Well, for some reason it didn't kill him. This is going to put a setback in phase three. I'll admit, I don't mind that he's going to suffer some more, which in turn will make Smith suffer, but I like things to go according to plan. And him surviving is not part of the plan."

Ellen poured a glass of brandy, then walked over to Stockwell, offering it to him. "Well, even if he is alive, he can't be doing very well. It won't be much longer. You'll see. But you know they won't leave him alone after this. The doctors are bound to run tests and find out about the morphine. I can't go back to the hospital and risk being seen by one of them."

Stockwell took the glass of brandy from Ellen and took a sip. "Ahh, but that's where you're wrong, my dear. You see, your part of this whole arrangement is to kill Peck. You haven't done that. If you don't kill Peck, then our arrangement is null and void."

Ellen smiled. "General, I didn't say I wouldn't kill him. I just can't go to the hospital right now. You know they'll take turns staying with Face. I'm open to any suggestions you may have on how to get to him."

Stockwell took another sip of brandy. "I'll let you know."

XXXXXXX

Dr. Bentley entered the waiting room. Hannibal stood.

"No, no, stay seated," said Dr. Bentley as he pulled up a chair and sat across from the team. "Templeton suffered a cardiac arrest. I don't know what triggered it, but I'm running blood tests now. I'll let you know as soon as I get the results. It's going to be touch and go for a while. If he arrests again, I doubt we can get him back. I know you want to see him, and I'll allow it. Talk to him. Touch him. Let him know you're there. Stay positive around him. The subconscious mind is a tricky thing. I don't want him to hear anything negative about his condition. Oh, and there's something else you should know." Dr. Bentley pinched the bridge of his nose, then ran his hand through his hair.

"Yes?" Hannibal asked, his stomach began to knot up. "What is it?"

"You remember those pain pills I had analyzed? They were three times stronger than the dose prescribed. It's no wonder he went into respiratory arrest." Dr. Bentley locked eyes with Hannibal.

"Doc, I don't want him left alone. You've got to let at least one of us be with him at all times." Hannibal said forcibly.

"Well, it's against policy, but I'll allow it. My main concern is my patient. He's a fighter, he proved that today. You guys can go see him for a while, then limit it to two at a time, okay?" Dr. Bentley stood. "I'll be by in about an hour to check on him again. I'll see you then."

XXXXXXXX

Ellen had waited in the living room while Stockwell made some calls, and then excused herself to the bedroom. She sat at the vanity table, brushing her hair. Things were not going according to plan, and like Stockwell, she wasn't happy about it. Giving Stockwell the complete diary of her father should have been enough to give her a new identity, a new life. She had carefully read her father's diary, and upon finding the section on Stockwell had decided to make a deal. Stockwell had taken parts of AJ's diary out. His own section, of course, and some general in Vietnam. Stockwell told her that he would meet her terms, but he had one addition. He wanted Face dead. Ellen had objected at first. She'd never killed anyone before. But she desperately wanted a new life out of the shadow of AJ Bancroft. And Stockwell was a powerful man who could make that happen. She accepted Stockwell's offer. She flew to Washington and presented the senate committee with AJ's diary….minus some information. Then she returned to Florida. Stockwell informed Murdock that AJ was Face's father. It was the beginning of the perfect set-up.

Stockwell walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts.

"You were right, Ellen. Peck is not out of the woods yet, so to speak. It wouldn't take much to make him suffer a cardiac arrest. They don't think he'll survive another one. And they're going to take turns guarding Peck. Seems the good doctor ran an analysis on the pain medicine, so now Smith is certain someone is out to kill Peck." Stockwell began to run his fingers through Ellen's hair. He brushed it aside and kissed the nape of her neck.

"So what do you want me to do?"

Stockwell smiled. "Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something."

XXXXXXX

Face was still, too still. The team entered his room slowly, quietly. Hannibal approached the bed. He took Face's hand in one of his own and stroked Face's hair with his other hand. "Hey, Face. You're going to be okay. We're with you now. You've got to keep fighting, Son." Hannibal looked at Face, hoping for some sign of movement or understanding. Face lay motionless except for his chest rising and falling with the breath provided by the ventilator. Up and down. Up and down.

Murdock stood at the foot of the bed, staring at his best friend who was hooked up to machines and IV's. Murdock wanted to run away from the fear, but knew that he had to stay for Face. He had to believe Face would be okay. He had to make Face believe it. Murdock walked up beside Hannibal, then bent down close to Face. "Hey Muchacho. It's time to wakey, wakey. You've got a couple of cute nurses assigned to you and if you don't speak up then I'm gonna get dibs on 'em."

BA stood on the other side of Face. "Hey Little Brother, don't you listen to the fool. Believe me, those nurses only got eyes for you." BA picked up Face's hand and held it, surprised at the coldness of his skin. "You just rest and get better."

Frankie stood at the foot of the bed. "Hang tough Face." He mentally cursed himself for not being able to think of anything to say. Truth be told all the machines and lines made him nervous.

They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, gathered around Face's bed. Watching his chest rise and fall. Listening to the heart monitor. Face was so pale, and his hands were so cold. Hannibal stroked his hair and ran his finger down the side of Face's cheek. Face looked so fragile. But Hannibal knew that looks were deceiving. Face was a survivor. He had survived a hellish childhood, the war, and the prison camps just to name a few.

Dr. Bentley entered the room; followed by the doctor Hannibal had seen working with Dr. Bentley earlier.

"Gentleman, I'd like you to meet my colleague, Dr. Ian Stockwell."

All four men turned in unison at the mention of the name Stockwell.

Hannibal composed himself and approached the doctors. Dr. Stockwell extended his hand, "It's nice to meet you."

Hannibal shook his hand. "Dr. Stockwell? You wouldn't by any chance be related to a General Hunt Stockwell, would you?"

Dr. Stockwell looked surprised. "Yes, as a matter of fact I am. He's my father."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 

"I don't want him anywhere near, Face. I mean it BA!" Murdock yelled.

BA walked up and put his hand across Murdock's mouth. "Shhh, Fool. You know we're not supposed to get Face excited. Now shut up!"

Murdock looked over at Face, who was still unconscious. He pulled BA's hand from his mouth. "Sorry BA. It's just—"

"I know, but you got to be quiet. Hannibal's talking to the doctors now. We'll wait for him to get back and then we'll all talk about it later, got it?"

"Got it. Shutting up now." Murdock walked back to Face's bedside, and picked up his hand. "You've got to wake up Face. I think you've had enough beauty sleep." He stroked Face's cheek.

BA and Frankie watched from the corner of the room.

XXXXXXX

"Col. Smith, I assure you, I'm nothing like my father," Dr. Ian Stockwell said earnestly.

Hannibal locked eyes with Ian. "Oh, really. And why would you say something like that to me?"

Ian swallowed. "Well, sir, I know about your arrangement with my father. About the missions and the pardons. And I know that my father's heart is made of ice. Believe me, I know that from experience."

"How do I know you didn't want Face to die? I heard you. I heard you tell Dr. Bentley here to let him go. Did you want Face to die? Did your father instruct you to kill him?" Hannibal's face was directly in front of Ian's.

Dr. Bentley stepped between them. "Hey, let's take it down a notch. Hannibal, I've worked with Ian since he was in residency. He's a good doctor. And Ian, Hannibal and the team—they've saved countless lives, risking their own in the process. It's only natural that Hannibal and the others are suspicious of you."

Ian sighed. "I know that. I'll make it easy on everyone. I won't participate in the care of Face. How's that? Will that prove to you that I'm not out to get him?"

Hannibal took out a cigar, wishing he could light up. "Oh, you won't participate in Face's care, that's a given. As for whether or not that proves you're not out to get him, hell no, that doesn't prove a thing."

Dr. Bentley placed his hand on Ian's back. "Why don't you go finish your rounds? I'll catch up with you later."

Ian put his hands in his coat pockets and turned toward Hannibal. "I wish you all the best. I really do." He turned to Dr. Bentley. "I'll see you later, Cade." He opened the door and left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Dr. Bentley stepped up to Hannibal. "He's really not a bad guy. I don't know much about his father, only that he's – how did Ian put it – a cold-hearted self-serving bastard. Ian was raised by his mother and hardly ever saw his father. As for the incident in Templeton's room – I had already shocked him twice. Ian and I have both seen what happens to patients when they're resuscitated after being 'gone' too long – brain damage, nerve damage. He was just wanting to let Templeton go to spare him all that. But I knew that Templeton's a fighter, that he wanted to come back. So I kept going. You really should give Ian a chance."

"Sorry Doc. I just can't. It's just too big of a coincidence that Stockwell's son is a doctor in the very hospital where Face is being treated after an attempt was made on his life." Hannibal turned toward the door.

Dr. Bentley looked over at Hannibal. "Maybe Stockwell knows that's what you would think."

"Maybe so."

XXXXXXX

"Hello?"

"Is it true?"

"Is what true, Ian?" Stockwell asked.

"Did you try to kill Templeton Peck?" Ian asked, his voice trembling.

"Why would I do that, Ian?" Stockwell hissed.

"I don't know, Father. Why _would_ you do that? You told me that these men worked for you, performed missions for you. You never said that you wanted Peck dead! Is that why you've been calling me and asking about his condition? And to think I actually thought you were concerned. I should have known better." Ian's voice grew progressively louder as he spoke.

"Don't take that tone with me, Ian. I won't stand for it."

"Fine. Get your information somewhere else, Father. I wash my hands of the whole thing. I've removed myself from Peck's case."

Stockwell spoke, anger apparent in his voice. "I see. Well, that is unfortunate. I guess I could always try to persuade your partner – what is his name—oh yes, Cade Bentley. I'm sure Dr. Bentley would love to relay information to me. I have different forms of persuasion I could use."

"No, Father. Cade Bentley is a good man. Don't you touch him," said Ian.

"Am I to understand that you're back on the case?" asked Stockwell.

"Yes, I'll give you the information you want, just don't hurt Cade. But I can't work on Peck's case. There's no way Hannibal Smith is going to let me get close to him."

"You don't have to work on Peck. You just have to keep me in the loop on his condition. We must talk again soon. Son."

Stockwell hung up the phone.

Ian held the receiver to his ear, hearing the dial tone.

XXXXXX

Hannibal entered Face's room. "Frankie, stay with Face. BA and Murdock, come with me."

Frankie walked over to Face's bedside. BA and Murdock headed toward the door.

Hannibal continued. "We'll be in private family lounge. It's just three doors down on the right. We'll fill you in on everything, okay Frankie?"

"Sure, Johnny. No problem. And don't worry. I won't leave his side." Frankie pulled up the chair and sat by the bed.

XXXXXX

BA spoke first. "You did the right thing Hannibal. We can't trust him. We can't take the chance."

"Yeah," chimed in Murdock. "I don't want him to touch Face!"

"Well, Dr. Bentley seems to trust him. And I trust Dr. Bentley. But it's just not worth taking the chance with Face's life. And even if his son was one of the good guys, Stockwell could still find a way to get to him. Blackmail, threats, you name it. So we're agreed. Dr. Stockwell is to remain off Face's case." Hannibal clamped his teeth on his cigar. "Okay. It's getting late. Why don't the two of you return to the suite, get cleaned up, get some sleep, and come back in the morning. Then Frankie and I will do the same."

"I'll go back and get cleaned up and change my clothes, but I'm sleeping here. On the couch, " BA said.

"Me too," said Murdock. "We can bring you and Frankie some clothes too if you want. They've got showers here."

"Okay, that would be great." Hannibal yawned, the events of the last few days catching up with him.

XXXXXXX

Somebody was shining a light in his eyes. First the left eye. Then the right eye. And it hurt. Face clenched his eyes shut.

"Okay, I'll quit. But only if you open your eyes for me," said a voice.

Face slowly opened his eyes. He started to speak, but realized he had a tube down his throat. His eyes opened wider.

"Templeton, I'm Dr. Bentley. You're in a hospital, on a ventilator. We've been waiting for you to wake up. I'm going to have the respirator removed, and if you do as well as I think you will, then we'll leave it out, okay? Blink your eyes twice if you understand."

Face blinked once, then again.

Dr. Bentley turned to Frankie. "I'll need you to step out of the room for a bit while we remove the respirator and finish our exam. You can stand right outside the door."

Frankie looked at Face then turned to the door. He pulled the door open, then hesitated. He had told Hannibal he wouldn't leave Face's side. He turned back around. "I can't leave, Dr. Bentley. I told Hannibal I'd stay by his side, and that's what I mean to do."

Dr. Bentley smiled. "I understand. Then stand in the corner there and stay out of the way, okay?"

Frankie stood in the corner, watching Dr. Bentley and the respiratory therapist working with Face, removing the ventilator tube. He could hear voices in the hallway. He recognized Hannibal's voice and one of the nurses. He could just imagine Hannibal's reaction at being told he couldn't enter the room.

A little while later, the ventilator was out and Face was awake. Dr. Bentley spoke to Face. "Okay, son, you're doing great. I know your throat is sore, so don't try to speak. I'm going to have the nurses bring some ice chips in. Your friend here can give those to you, okay?"

Face nodded.

Dr. Bentley turned to Frankie. "We're through here for now. I'll send Hannibal in. I know he's anxious to get in here." Dr. Bentley patted Face's leg. "Get some rest."

Dr. Bentley opened the door. Hannibal rushed in, nearly knocking Dr. Bentley over. Hannibal went immediately to Face's side. Dr. Bentley followed him over. "He's breathing on his own now. I'm still worried about his wound. It reopened when we resuscitated him yesterday and we had to re-close it. It's still showing signs of infection, but he's getting antibiotics. I don't want him to get overly excited, so let's just keep things nice and calm, okay? I'm going home now. The nurses know how to reach me if you need me. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Good night, gentlemen."

Hannibal turned and shook Dr. Bentley's hand. "Thanks Doc."

Dr. Bentley just smiled and turned to leave.

Hannibal turned back to Face. "Well, so you decided to join the rest of us, huh?"

Face smiled weakly. "I..." he tried to speak, but his throat hurt.

"Don't talk now, son. There's plenty of time for that later." Hannibal said, stroking Face's hair. Face closed his eyes. A nurse brought a cup of ice chips and a spoon and handed them to Hannibal.

A soft snore came from the corner of the room, and Hannibal turned to see Frankie asleep in the chair. He turned back to Face, thankful for a moment alone with the man he loved as a son. "Face, I've got some ice chips. They'll make your throat feel better."

Face's eyes fluttered opened. He smiled. Hannibal spooned in a couple of ice chips. Face closed his eyes, savoring the coolness on his throat. "Thanks," he rasped.

Hannibal took another spoonful out and held them to Face's lips. "Here, you want some more?"

Face nodded. "Yeah, maybe a couple." His voice was a whisper. He took the ice chips and again enjoyed the coolness in his throat.

Hannibal bent closer to Face. "I know you have a lot of questions. And I promise you're going to get answers. But right now I just want you to concentrate on getting better."

"I'm cold," whispered Face.

Hannibal pulled the covers up to Face's shoulders, leaving his left arm exposed because of the IV's. Face smiled a sleepy smile and closed his eyes. He was asleep almost immediately. Hannibal sat in the bedside chair and watched Face sleep. 'He looks like a little boy, so innocent,' Hannibal thought. But Hannibal knew that innocence had been lost a long time ago, in a country far away. What would have broken most men, only made Face stronger; not that he didn't have moments of sadness. They'd had a mission in Vietnam a while back. The memories nearly did them all in. And they'd dealt with General Chao, the sadistic bastard who ran the prison camp. Face had kept up his happy facade during the mission, only to break down and drown his sorrows at a seedy bar when the mission was over. And the nightmares. They didn't happen every night, but they happened more often than not. Hannibal had talked to him about the nightmares once, asked him if he wanted to see Dr. Richter. Face had just looked at him incredulously and said, "Some things you're not meant to forget, Hannibal."

Face's breathing had become deeper, more even. Hannibal knew he was in a deep sleep. He placed a hand on Face's chest, taking comfort in the rise and fall of each breath. He put his head in the crook of his other arm and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to overtake him.

XXXXXX

The phone rang, waking Ellen from her sleep. She heard Stockwell's voice in the other room. A minute passed. Ellen rubbed her eyes, then looked up to see Stockwell standing in the doorway.

"It's time, Ellen. Baracas and Murdock are back at the suite. Santana and Smith are sleeping. Hurry up and get over there. And make sure you do it right this time."

XXXXXX

Face could feel the weight of Hannibal's hand on his chest. Hannibal was sitting a chair, hunched over Face's bed sleeping. 'His back is going to be killing him in the morning,' thought Face. Across the room, he could see Frankie sleeping in another chair, his legs stretched out in from of him.

Face couldn't decide which hurt worse, his throat or his chest. All he knew was that he was in pain and he was hot. He clenched his jaw and squinted his eyes shut, trying to ride out a spasm that seemed to grip his whole body, making him jerk in response to the pain.

Hannibal flinched, and slowly lifted up his head. He stood next to Face, and placed his hand on his forehead. "My God, Face, you're burning up." Hannibal turned to Frankie. "Frankie, wake up. Frankie!"

Frankie rubbed his eyes and stood. "Sorry, Hannibal….I must have dozed—"

"There's no time for that. Go to the nurses' station and tell them that Face has a fever. Go now!"

Frankie glanced at Face, then ran out the door.

Face whispered, "Hannibal, I'm okay. You're just overreacting. I'm sure it's nothing."

"I'm sure you're right Face, but I don't want to take any chances, so you'll just have to humor me." Hannibal said, pasting a smile on his face.

The nurse came in the room, followed by Frankie. She took Face's temperature and monitored his blood pressure, pulse, and respirations. "Mr. Smith, your fever is 103.2. I'm going to page Dr. Bentley and let him know. For now, let's put some cool cloths on your forehead, that will help. I'll also get you something for the pain."

Frankie told the nurse, "If you get the cloths for me, then my friend and I can take care of cooling him down."

"Follow me," she said. She and Frankie walked out of the room.

Hannibal looked at Face. Face had closed his eyes, but his jaw was still clenched and his brows knitted together in pain. His breathing was shallow and ragged. 'How much more are you supposed to take?' thought Hannibal. 'All this pain, the suffering, now the fever.' He stroked Face's hot cheek.

Frankie came back to the room, a basin of ice water and some small towels in his hands. He soaked one in the ice the water, squeezed the excess water out, and then placed it across Face's forehead. "How's that, Face? Does it feel better?"

Face smiled a weak half-smile and whispered, "Yeah, Frankie. Thanks." He grimaced as another spasm of pain hit.

Hannibal held Face's hand. "Just hang in there, Face." He turned to Frankie, "I thought she was going to get something for his pain."

"She was calling Dr. Bentley when I left the nurses' station. She'll be here, Johnny. She'll be here." Frankie said.

"I'm sorry, Frank. I just hate seeing him suffer like this. It's just not fair." Hannibal replied, frustration evident in his voice.

The nurse entered the room carrying a tray with syringes. She placed the tray on the foot of the bed, and picked up the syringes so that Hannibal could see them. "Dr. Bentley has ordered some prescription strength ibuprofen. That should help with the pain and the fever. He said that Mr. Smith can't have anything stronger than that right now because of the respiratory distress he suffered when he was admitted. I'm also giving him a shot of penicillin for the infection in his surgical wound. Dr. Bentley said that I should show you the syringes before I injected them into the IV line."

Hannibal looked at the tray. He knew nothing about medicine, but appreciated what Dr. Bentley was trying to do. He nodded his head. "Thanks. You can inject them now."

The nurse took the syringes and injected them into Face's IV line. "Call if you need anything else or if his symptoms change." She left the room.

Frankie removed the cloth from Face's head and dipped it in the ice water again. He squeezed out the excess water then folded the cloth and returned it to Face's forehead.

"Hannibal," Face whispered.

Hannibal bent down close to Face so he could hear him better. "Yeah, Face?"

"I want to go home."

"I know you do, Face, but you've got to get well first." Hannibal wiped away a trail of water than had traveled down Face's cheek from the wet cloth.

"'m sleepy."

"Go to sleep, Face. I'll be right here. Just to go sleep." Hannibal stroked Face's hair, careful not to displace the cool cloth. Face closed his eyes. His cheeks were red, flushed like a baby's in sleep.

They stayed that way for an hour. Frankie on one side, dutifully changing out the cool cloths. Hannibal on the other side, stroking Face's hair or his cheek, holding his hand. Face slept in a fitful sleep, an occasional raspy moan escaping his lips.

Face began to become more restless, rocking his head back and forth, squirming under the covers. "No, God, no." He pulled clutched his side. His eyes few open, glassy and unfocused. He tried to sit up.

Hannibal pushed Face back down onto the bed. "Face, you've got to be still."

Face tried to free himself from Hannibal's grip. The dressing covering his wound was slowly turning red. "No! Not again. Please, not again!" he rasped.

Hannibal yelled to Frankie, "Go get the nurse. I think his fever has gotten higher! Hurry!"

Frankie ran to the door.

XXXXXXX

Ellen stood outside Face's room. She cracked the door slightly and peeked inside. She could see Hannibal and Frankie hovering over Face. 'Damn it,' she thought. 'They're both awake. NOW what am I supposed to do?'

Suddenly the door to Face's room opened.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Tangled Web**

**Chapter 6**

Frankie froze. Was it ...No, it couldn't be….she was dead….

Ellen turned and ran down the hall. Frankie followed.

Ellen continued to run. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Frankie catching up to her. Just as she turned her head around, she ran into something….make that some_one_.

"Whoa, Miss, take it easy. No running in the halls. Is there something I can help you with?"

Ellen tried to sidestep the man.

"STOP THAT WOMAN!" yelled Frankie.

Ian Stockwell grabbed Ellen's arm. Ellen tried to squirm out of his grip, but could not. Frankie caught up to them both.

"Don't let her go," Frankie told Ian. Then he turned to the nurse at the desk. "Tim Smith's fever is getting higher. He's getting restless."

The nurse looked up from her paperwork. "I'll page Dr. Bentley."

Frankie turned back to Ian and Ellen.

Ian spoke first. "Okay, what's going on here?" His grip was still tight on Ellen's arm.

"Uhh, well, this is Ellen Bancroft. We thought she was dead. That's the whole reason we're down here. I just caught her standing outside Fa—I mean Tim's room." Frankie said.

Ian motioned with his head toward the waiting room. He pulled Ellen into the waiting area. Frankie looked up and down the hallway and followed.

XXXXXXXX

Murdock and BA exited the taxi, each carrying a duffle bag with clothes and toiletries. They each walked briskly into the hospital, toward the elevators, neither man saying a word, both men anxious to see how Face was doing.

The doors opened and they stepped out. Walking toward Face's room, they could hear voices in the waiting room. One of them sounded like Frankie.

BA and Murdock entered the waiting area, stunned to find Frankie talking with Ian Stockwell and Ellen Bancroft.

BA reached the trio in three long strides. "Frankie, what are you doing with Ellen Bancroft and Stockwell's son?"

Ellen gasped and looked at Ian. "You're his son? Then let go of me!" Ellen tried to free herself from Ian's grasp, but he refused to let go.

"Well, BA…Johnny sent me to the get the nurse…Face has a high fever….and when I opened the door, Ellen was standing there. She ran and I chased her down the hall. She ran into Dr. Stockwell here and he stopped her. That's all I know." Frankie said, nervously.

"Face has a fever? Is he okay?" Murdock asked.

"Uh, I don't know if he is or not. I mean, he was, but then the fever hit and he started getting restless. Johnny's trying to keep him calm. His side's bleeding again though."

Murdock tossed the duffle bag he had been carrying onto the floor and ran toward Face's room.

BA tossed his bag toward Murdock's. "Frankie, you stay here and watch them. I'll be right back." BA followed Murdock to Face's room.

Ian thrust Ellen to Frankie. "You watch her. I'm going to check on Face."

Frankie grasped Ellen's arms and Ian turned to leave.

"Go to hell," Ellen hissed.

Frankie tightened his grip and smiled. "You first."

XXXXXXXX

Hannibal relaxed his grip on Face's shoulders. Too weak to fight against Hannibal, Face had stopped straining. Now his head turned side to side. Raspy, incoherent mumbling came from his lips.

Murdock opened the door and entered, BA right behind him. BA was about to speak when the nurse entered the room. She took Face's temperature and other vital signs.

Ian Stockwell rushed in and went directly to Face's side. He touched Face's forehead and frowned. He reached toward the bandage on Face's side when a strong black hand grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

"You ain't gonna touch him," BA growled.

"Look, I'm just trying to help." He turned to the nurse. "What are his vitals?"

"His temperature is 104.6, Doctor. His pulse is 120, respirations 20, BP 150/100."

"Okay, let's continue the cold compresses, get a cooling blanket. We've got to get his fever down. Get 100 mg of metoprolol for his blood pressure. And bring me a suture kit, 5-0 Prolene. Call the lab, let me know the results of the cultures from his wound."

The nurse hurried out of the room.

BA maintained his grip on Ian.

Murdock spoke, his voice eerily calm. "You are not going to touch him. You'll kill him."

Ian refused to give up. "If you don't let me treat him, he could die. I swear to you on my soul that I am not going to hurt him."

"Stockwell doesn't have a soul. What makes you think that you do?" Murdock spoke, slowly.

"Let him go BA."

BA turned toward Hannibal. "What?"

"I said let him go. He's not going to do anything to harm Face with us in the room. Now let him go." Hannibal commanded.

BA relaxed his grip, and Ian began to examine Face. Murdock stood next to Ian, watching every movement. BA walked over to Hannibal's side.

"Hannibal, there's something you should know." BA spoke, his voice low. He took a breath, held it, then released it. "Ellen is alive. Frankie's got her in the waiting room."

Hannibal looked from BA to Face, and then back to BA. "We've got to get out of here."

XXXXXXXX

Between the cooling blankets and the medications, Face's condition slowly stabilized. Ellen had been brought into Face's room and locked in the bathroom. After placing her there, she had started hitting the door and screaming. BA had merely opened the door and growled, "If you don't shut up on your own, I'll do it for you." She had been silent ever since.

Ian Stockwell occupied a chair in the corner of the room. He would get up occasionally to check on Face, then silently walk back to chair.

Murdock had pulled a chair up beside Face's bed. He folded his arms and placed them on the mattress, then rested his head in the crook of his right arm. Soon he was asleep.

Frankie had gone to the visitor's lounge to sleep on one of the couches.

Hannibal and BA stayed in Face's room, chairs pulled side by side in the corner opposite Ian Stockwell.

"We've got to get to the bottom of this, BA. I think you and I should have a little chat with our guest."

Hannibal rose from his chair and headed to the bathroom, BA behind him. They opened the door to find Ellen sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, her head resting on them. She snapped her head up. "What do you want?"

Hannibal spoke. "We want to know why you faked your death. We want to know why you sent the note. We want to know how Stockwell is involved in this. And we want to know why the hell you would put your own brother through all of this."

"He is NOT my brother," Ellen spat. "Stockwell just told him that so that I could get close to him. He told my father that Face was his son because he wanted the diary. I sent you the note telling you Stockwell tried to have Face killed. You could have left when you got it. The way I see it, you blew it when you decided to stay."

BA pulled Ellen up onto her feet. "Look, lady, YOU blew it when you tried to mess with Face."

Hannibal put his hand on BA's chest, "Calm down, Sergeant. We're going to get to the bottom of this."

Ellen wrapped her arms around herself. "There are things you don't know, things you can't know. Stockwell will kill you, me….anyone he thinks will get in his way. He has the means to do it, too. No questions asked."

There was a tap on the door. Hannibal cracked it open.

"My father just paged me. He's going to want to know about Peck's condition. What do you want me to do?" asked Ian.

"Tell him the truth. Tell him Face is stabilized. Tell him you convinced us to let you treat him." Hannibal said. He turned to BA. "Go with him, BA."

"My pleasure." BA pulled the door the rest of the way open and escorted Ian out of the room, leaving Hannibal and Ellen alone.

"Okay, Ellen, there's nobody here but us. Tell me everything. If you're completely honest with me, I might let you live. You see, while it's true that the guys and I took and oath not to kill again, I will have no trouble killing someone who is supposed to be already dead. Do I make myself clear?" Hannibal glared at Ellen as he spoke.

Ellen merely nodded her head, defeated.

"My father's diary had a section devoted to Stockwell. My father and Stockwell worked with a North Vietnamese general, I think his name was Chao. They had arranged for the bank in Hanoi to be robbed. My father was able to launder the money and place it in different accounts. It was a three-way split. I don't know what Stockwell did with his part of the money. General Chao used his set up a drug trafficking operation. And my father used his to start a new life away from my mother and me." Ellen paused.

"Go on," said Hannibal.

"Well, Stockwell promised me a new life, a new identity, if I gave him the complete diary and if I…" Ellen paused, looking at the floor.

"If you what?" asked Hannibal.

"If I killed Face."

Hannibal pushed Ellen up against the wall, his face an inch from hers. "Is that why you're here tonight? To finish the job?"

Ellen swallowed. "Yes. I didn't want to, but …"

"Yeah. Right."

Hannibal stepped to the door. "You know, by hurting the one person in this world who would have given his life for you, you've made far more powerful enemies than Stockwell."

Hannibal left, locking the door behind him.

Ellen began to cry.

XXXXX

Ian and BA walked to the doctors' lounge and called his father.

"Yes."

"Father, I got your page."

"What is Peck's condition?" asked Stockwell.

"He is stabilized. Smith actually allowed me to treat him. Must be the Stockwell charm." Ian said, smiling at BA.

"Has he had any ….visitors?" Stockwell asked.

"Yes. Everyone is relieved that his fever has come down. I believe he's going to be fine. He just needs rest now, and a complete course of antibiotics." Ian said.

"Do they have Ellen?"

"Yes. They stay in the room with him."

"So, they have Ellen in the room. That will have to be remedied."

Stockwell hung up the phone.

"Yes, I'll keep you posted." Ian said. Then he hung up the phone.

BA walked to the door. "Let's go."

XXXXXXX

Hannibal met up with BA and Ian in the hallway.

"I've got to get some rest," said Ian. "I'm going back to the doctors' lounge for a nap. If you need me, don't hesitate to come and get me."

Hannibal nodded. "Okay. Uh, listen. Thanks for helping Face. You didn't have to do that."

Ian smiled. "Yes I did. I'm a doctor. It's what I do." He turned and went back to the doctor's lounge.

Hannibal and BA stopped outside Face's room. Hannibal yawned. BA looked at the colonel, trying to remember the last time Hannibal had gotten any sleep.

"Hannibal, why don't you go in there with Frankie and get some sleep. I'll stay with Face and Murdock. You ain't gonna do anybody any good if you don't get some sleep."

"I don't know, BA. What if Stockwell makes a move? We've got to be ready."

BA nodded. "I agree. But you're walking in your sleep. Take a nap. I'll come get you in an hour."

"Maybe you're right." Hannibal opened the door the Face's room. "I just want to check on Face, make sure he's okay."

Hannibal and BA walked in Face's room quietly. Face was asleep. Murdock was still asleep, his head buried in the crook of his arm.

Hannibal whispered, "Keep an eye on things here. And come and get me in one hour."

"You got it, Hannibal." BA walked Hannibal to the door.

XXXXXXX

Face began to moan. He slowly opened his eyes.

Murdock stirred, then lifted his head to see Face smiling at him.

"Hey Face. Welcome back. How do you feel?"

"My throat hurts," whispered Face.

"You want some ice? I can get you some ice. Or you want a Popsicle? You can have a Popsicle. They've got lots of flavors. There's grape, orange, cherry, banana…"

"Shut up, Fool," said BA. "You supposed to stay calm so he can stay calm." BA turned to Face. "Now, do you want some ice or a Popsicle?"

Face smiled at BA. "Popsicle."

"Murdock, go down and get Face a Popsicle." BA turned to Face. "What flavor do you want, little brother?"

"Surprise me," whispered Face.

Murdock grinned. "Ooh, surprises. I love surprises. I'll be right back." Murdock practically bounced out of the room.

BA and Face watched Murdock leave, still muttering about surprises.

"Crazy fool will probably bring you one of every flavor," joked BA.

Face smiled, then his face paled as he focused on a figure behind BA. "BA—" He reached out toward BA, nearly pulling out the IV's in his arm. BA bent over Face, pushing his arms back down.

"Hey, Face. What's wrong? You can't move around like that."

BA could tell Face was trying to speak to him. He bent closer to Face, then felt the hypodermic needle as it entered the back of his neck. He tried to turn, but passed out instead, falling on the floor beside Face's bed.

Face reached out, trying to catch BA. He fell back against the pillows as he fought a spasm of pain, his eyes clenched shut. He could hear movement in the room. Taking a deep breath, Face pulled the IV's out of his arm. He pushed himself up slowly, grimacing at the pain from the movements. He placed one foot on the floor, then the other. Too weak to stand, he fell to the floor, pulling the cardiac leads off his chest. The heart monitor began to shrill. He lifted his head and watched as Ellen hurried out the door.

Face tried to call out to her, but was only able to whisper, "Ellen." Then he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Murdock turned the corner of the hall toward Face's room. Two nurses rushed by him. As they opened the door to Face's room, he could hear the cardiac monitor alarm. Murdock stood in the doorway. He could see BA and Face on the floor, the nurses bent over them.

Murdock dropped the Popsicles on the floor.

XXXXXXXX

Ellen was nearly to the service elevators when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Going somewhere?"

Ellen turned around. "Oh, it's you. I thought you were one of the A-Team."

"It would be better for you if I were."

Ellen was pushed into the service elevator. She screamed.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Tangled Web**

Chapter 7 

Ian clasped his hand across Ellen's mouth. "Don't scream. If you promise not to scream, I'll let go. Do you promise?"

Ellen nodded.

Ian slowly released his hand from Ellen's mouth. "Why did you push me in here?"

"I saw Cade coming. I didn't want us to get caught." Ian replied. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the ceiling, then turned to face Ellen. "My father wants me to kill you. But I …..I can't. You've got to get out of here. I'll take you to my place. It's the last place my father will look."

Ellen stared at Ian. "Why are you doing this?"

Ian remained silent.

The elevator opened on the basement level of the hospital garage. Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. "C'mon. My car's right over there." He pointed to a black sedan.

Ellen hurried to Ian's car and waited as he unlocked the door and opened it for her. He ran to the driver's side and got in.

XXXXXXXXX

Unable to sleep, Hannibal got off the couch and walked toward Frankie. Bending slightly, he shook Frankie's shoulder, waking him.

"Frank, get up. Let's let BA and Murdock get some sleep."

Frankie stretched his arms and stifled a yawn. "What? Oh, yeah, sure Johnny. I didn't realize how tired I was. How's Face doing?"

"He was asleep last time I checked on him. His fever was down. I think he's going to be okay."

The door swung open, and Murdock rushed in, breathless. "Hannibal, Frankie come on. Face and BA were…..Ellen is….."

Hannibal hurried to Murdock. "Take a deep breath. What's going on?"

Murdock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and exhaled. "Okay. I went to get Popsicles for Face. His throat hurt. When I came back, Face and BA were on the floor, unconscious. Ellen's gone."

Hannibal pulled Murdock's arm. "Let's go."

The three men ran down the hall to Face's room. One of the nurses was talking to BA. "You really should let us take you to the ER and get checked out, sir."

BA snarled, "I said I ain't leaving my friend, and I meant it. I'm fine. You just take care of him."

Face was back in bed, unconscious, the IV's now established in his right arm. Fresh bandages were on his left arm where the IV's had been pulled out.

Dr. Bentley entered the room. One of the nurses hurried up to him and updated him on Face's condition as well as the events that had happened. Dr. Bentley frowned and went to examine Face. He thumbed through Face's chart, making notations. When he was finished, he walked over to Hannibal.

"Well, Doc?" asked Hannibal.

"He seems to be doing well. His pulse is strong. His vitals are within the normal range. I think he's just tired. The nurse told me that Ian treated him when his fever spiked. I'd like to thank you for taking a chance on Ian. He did a good job. Templeton's fever is down to 99 now. We know the cause of the cardiac arrest. He had an overdose of morphine, probably injected into his IV line." Dr. Bentley locked eyes with Hannibal.

Hannibal fumbled to pull his cigar out of his pocket. He rolled it between his fingers. "Doc, I don't know how much you know, and I don't know how much you want to know. But Face isn't safe here. I need to get him out of here. I'm open to any suggestions you may have."

Dr. Bentley thought for moment, then spoke. "Let me think about it. I'll get back to you."

XXXXXX

Face opened his eyes. He immediately thought of BA falling to the floor. He tried to sit up, but didn't have the strength to push himself up.

Hannibal reached out, placing his hand on Face's shoulder. "Face, it's okay. Everything's okay."

"BA needs help. I've got to…"Face whispered. He reached out his hand.

"Face, BA is fine. He's right over there. Murdock and Frankie are fine too." Hannibal brushed Face's hair with his fingers.

"A doctor ….had a needle….." Face closed his eyes. He snapped them open. "I saw Ellen. She was here." A tear slid down Face's cheek.

"I know," said Hannibal. "A lot has happened, Face."

Hannibal hesitated. Face was supposed to avoid stress. But he obviously knew something was going on. He'd seen Ellen himself. Hannibal took a deep breath, then bent down to Face. "I've got something to tell you, Face, and it's not going to be easy."

Face looked at Hannibal, and saw the pain in his eyes. "Tell me, Hannibal," he whispered.

"Face, Ellen isn't dead. She came here to – she came here to kill you. She's not really your sister. She works for Stockwell. Damn it, Face, I'm so sorry." Hannibal clenched his jaw, trying to keep his emotions in check.

Face blinked a couple of times and said nothing. Ellen wasn't his sister. That meant AJ wasn't his father. That meant he really was a throwaway child. Face turned his head and closed his eyes, wishing he could just be left alone, knowing that he couldn't be.

XXXXXXXX

Ian pulled up in the driveway of his house. He pulled into the garage.

"We're here. Let's get inside." Ian said.

Ellen opened her door and exited the car. She followed Ian into the house.

"Would you like something to eat or drink, Ellen?" asked Ian.

Ellen looked around the vast kitchen. "No. Thank you."

Ian walked toward the living room. "Here. Why don't you have a seat? You look tired."

Ellen smiled. "Yeah, I am tired." She followed Ian to the living room and sat down on an overstuffed couch.

Ian sat down beside her. "So, Ellen, what's my father got on you?"

Ellen looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Well, my father only forms relationships with people he can control. What does he have on you?" Ian asked.

"I'm sure you now about the diary my father had. Well, I have the complete version. It has some interesting information about your father. He gets the diary. I get a new life. It's as simple as that," said Ellen. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the couch. She sighed. "At least it was supposed to be simple." Ellen lifted her head back up and looked at Ian. "Does your father have anything on you?"

Ian smiled. "Of course. I told you, he only has relationships with people he can control. What better way to control someone than to use blackmail?"

Ellen scooted up on the couch. "Really. What does he have on you?"

Ian inched over to Ellen, his face merely inches from hers. "Murder."

XXXXXXXXX

Dr. Bentley motioned Hannibal to the physician's lounge and directed him to a small conference room. He poured two cups of coffee and sat down across from Hannibal, sliding a cup of coffee to him across the table.

"Hannibal, I know where you can take Templeton. I have a beach house about 30 miles from here. It even has a hospital bed set up in the atrium, overlooking the beach." Dr. Bentley hesitated then continued. "My wife died there a couple of years ago. Pancreatic cancer."

"I'm sorry," Hannibal said.

"Thank you," Dr. Bentley composed himself. "Anyway, I don't mind if you use it. I'll write orders that Templeton is going to be transported back to Virginia to continue his convalescence. I even know an ambulance attendant who'll take him out there, no questions asked."

"Doc, I appreciate what you're doing, but won't you get in trouble for writing fraudulent orders?" Hannibal asked.

"If I do, I do. I told you, my main concern is my patient. He's not safe here." Dr. Bentley took a sip of his coffee and grimaced, "God, this stuff is terrible."

Hannibal took a sip of his coffee. "I don't know, I kind of like it."

"Hannibal, you remember when Templeton first came here, I told you that I knew who you and the team were?"

Hannibal nodded.

Dr. Bentley continued, "Well, I know who you are because I was there in Vietnam when you and the guys were brought to the hospital after escaping the POW camp. I was fresh out of residency. It's no wonder Templeton doesn't recognize me. He was pretty out of it for quite a while, and well, I was a lot younger then. Weren't we all? Anyway, I treated Templeton when he was brought in. He had been beaten, tortured, and….raped….but he refused to give up. He was told he could go home. He refused to go. Said he wanted to stay with his unit."

Hannibal cupped his hands around the coffee cup. "It would have been better if he had gone home. He'd be a free man right now. Probably married with a couple of kids."

Dr. Bentley continued. "Don't go there, Hannibal. That's one thing that Anna and I learned when our son David died in a car accident just a year before Anna died. You can't live in the past. We've all got 'coulda's' and 'shoulda's' in our lives, but we can't dwell on them. Anna made me promise to go on, to make a difference. That's what you and the team have done, and what you must continue to do. You've made a difference. Ask Templeton if he regrets staying with the unit. I'll guarantee you he doesn't. I see it in his eyes when he looks at you."

Dr. Bentley stood. "Stay in here as long as you need, Hannibal. I've got rounds to make. If you want to use the house, we can have you there by the afternoon. I'll check back in within the next couple of hours."

Hannibal stood and extended his hand. "Thanks Doc. I don't know what to say. We couldn't do this without you."

Dr. Bentley smiled and returned the handshake. "Don't say anything. And call me Cade." He walked to the door, then turned around. "I'll see you in a bit."

XXXXXXXXXX

The ride to the beach house was uneventful. Face was settled in the hospital bed in the atrium. The ambulance driver, another Vietnam vet, saluted Hannibal and left.

Murdock and BA cased the outside of the house while Frankie and Hannibal aired out the inside of the house. Face smiled when the windows were opened and he could smell the ocean air. He fell asleep to the sound of waves hitting the shore.

For the first time since leaving the hospital, Hannibal felt he could relax.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ian paced back and forth in the basement. Ellen was sitting in a chair that was bolted to the floor. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were tied to the legs of the chair. She was crying.

"Ian, please. Let me go. I won't tell anybody about you. Please let me go." She continued to cry.

"Let you go? Let you GO? How can I let you go? Don't you see? Everything was perfect until you fucked up. My father saw to it that my past _transgression _was never discovered. I finished medical school. I became a damn good doctor. Not that my father cared. He was interested in only having someone with a medical degree that he could use to his benefit. Drugs to fake a death. How to inflict maximal physical damage with minimal evidence. The list goes on and on. Then last year, the calls became less and less frequent. Then they ceased. Until now. I had finally been able to have a real life. Be a real doctor, a good doctor."

Ian wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and started pacing again. "I saved Peck, you know. I saved him because my father wanted him dead. Of course, he wants you dead too."

"Ian, I'm sorry. Tell me what to do. I'll do whatever you say, just please, don't kill me." Ellen sobbed.

Ian stopped pacing and turned to Ellen. "Tell me where the diary is. We can use it to destroy my father."

"He already has it, Ian. It's in the desk on his plane." Ellen said, pulling the ropes on her wrists, causing them to bleed.

"Well then, there's no reason for you to stay alive, is there?" Ian laughed a throaty laugh.

"Wait. Wait. You're right. He doesn't have the original. I've got it put away somewhere safe. He only has a copy."

"I want the original diary," Ian said tonelessly.

"You'll have to let me get it for you." Ellen said, her voice quivering. "It's locked up."

Ian approached Ellen. He reached out and ran his fingers down the side of her face. "If I take you to the diary, you'll try to escape."

"No I won't, I swear!" Ellen cried.

Ian walked over to a desk in the corner of the basement and pulled out a handgun, attaching the silencer as he walked back to Ellen.

"Okay, take me to the diary. If you try to get away, I'll kill you. Do you understand?"

Ellen nodded her head. "Yes."

"Where is the diary?" Ian asked again.

"It's at the train station."

"Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXX

Face awoke to the sound of ocean waves, seagulls, and BA snoring as he slept on a couch in the atrium. He couldn't help but smile. He looked out the window and took in the beauty of the sunrise. The sky was painted in purple, pink, and orange. He suddenly remembered what Hannibal had told him about Ellen and he turned his head away from the window, closing his eyes, willing the world to go away.

He heard footsteps and slowly opened his eyes. Hannibal approached him along with another man who looked familiar.

"Face, this is Cade Bentley, your doctor. Do you remember him?" Hannibal asked.

Face nodded his head slowly. "I think so."

"This is his house. He's letting us use it until you're well enough to travel."

Face looked at Cade and smiled. "Thanks." He turned his head away and stared out the window.

Cade approached the bed and opened up his medical bag. "Okay, Templeton. I'm just going to do a quick exam and replace your IV's." Cade pulled out his stethoscope as he spoke. He checked Face's pupils, then his throat. He checked vital signs. He walked to the other side of Face's bed and tugged on the sheet. "Okay, now I need to check your surgical incision." Cade pulled the sheet down to Face's waist. He slowly pulled the tape off the dressing and proceeded to inspect the incision site. Face flinched as Cade pressed the area of skin around the incision. Cade finished his exam quickly and redressed Face's wound.

"All done. You're looking good Templeton. Your vital signs are stable. Your incision is healing nicely. I think the antibiotics have finally started to kick in. What you need now is rest. You can sit up for a couple of hours a day if you want, even go outside if someone is with you. The main thing is not to over exert yourself." Cade patted Face's leg. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Murdock bounded into the room. "Doesn't he get a lollipop for being a good boy?"

Cade laughed. "No. But he can have a Popsicle if he wants. His throat is still a little raw from the tube, but it's progressing nicely." Cade turned back to Face. "Take it easy."

Cade crooked his head in the direction of the kitchen and headed that way, Hannibal following behind him.

Murdock walked over to Face. "So, do you want a Popsicle?"

Face frowned. "No, I don't want a damned Popsicle. Just leave me alone, okay Murdock? I just want to go to sleep." Face closed his eyes and turned his head away from Murdock.

Murdock stared at Face, then put his hands in pockets and slowly walked away. Frankie stepped out from one of the bedrooms just as Face told Murdock to go away. He put his hand on Murdock's shoulder. "C'mon Murdock. Let's go get something to eat, okay?"

"Sure. Okay."

XXXXXXX

"Okay, Cade, what's really going on? Is Face okay?" Hannibal asked worriedly.

"I think he will be. But he's obviously upset. He's so quiet, too quiet. Just keep an eye on him. When a person has nothing to do but lie in bed and think, sometimes emotions become too much to bear. He's really weak right now. We just need to reinforce a positive attitude with him. And if he's prone to nightmares, someone will need to stay with him when he sleeps. He's suffered a cardiac arrest, and we must keep him calm." Cade locked his medical bag. "Well, I better get going. I'll come back out this evening and check on him again. In the meantime, if you need anything just page me."

Frankie and Murdock entered the kitchen as Cade was preparing to leave. He greeted them with a handshake and left.

Hannibal watched Cade walk down the path to his Jeep. "There goes one hell of a man." He turned to Murdock and Frankie. "Okay, guys. Let's get busy. I don't think Stockwell knows where we are, but that could change at any minute. We need a contingency plan."

XXXXXXXX

Stockwell was angry. He had paged Ian more than 20 minutes ago and Ian had not called in.

"Carla, call his house."

"Yes sir."

Stockwell thumbed through the papers on his desk. Carla entered the room. "There's no answer, sir."

"Call the nurse's station and inquire about Peck."

A minute passed, and Carla came back into the room. "They said he's been transferred back to Virginia."

Stockwell slammed his fist on his desk.

"Find Ian."

XXXXXXXXX

Ellen and Ian stood in the train station, in front of a long row of lockers. Ian's right hand was clasped around the gun hidden in his pocket; his left was clasped around Ellen's wrist.

"Let's go." Ian whispered in her ear.

Ellen slowly made her way to the locker. She dialed the combination of the lock, and slowly unclasped it.

"Get it." Ian whispered.

Ellen opened the locker door. The only thing inside the locker was a black notebook. Ellen reached in and retrieved the notebook.

Ian tightened his grip on Ellen's arm. "Let's go to the car."

They slowly made their way out of the train station to the parking lot toward Ian's car. He unlocked the passenger door. "Get in."

Ellen sat in the passenger seat and Ian slammed the door shut. He walked to the driver's side. Ellen opened her door and began to run back toward the train station. Ian aimed the gun and fired, hitting Ellen in the back. She fell to the ground. A crowd began to gather around her.

Ian ran to where Ellen lay. "Let me through. I'm a doctor. Somebody call the ambulance." Ian turned Ellen over. Blood was trickling from her mouth. She tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound came from her throat. Ian stroked her hair. "It's okay, Miss. I'm going to take care of you."

The last image Ellen saw was Ian smiling at her.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hello?"

"I killed her, Father."

"Very good. Now find Peck and Smith. The nurses say Peck was transferred to Virginia, but I don't believe that. Find them and kill them."

"Yes, Father."

Stockwell hung up the phone and smiled. Phase three was about to begin.

XXXXXXXXX

Ian Stockwell could feel the dried blood on his hands. Images of Ellen's face flashed through his mind. The look in her eyes as she lay dying caused Ian to smile. He had the power of life and death. It was just like before, when he had killed David Bentley.

XXXXXXXXX

Cade Bentley stopped by the grocery store on the way to the beach house. He loaded the groceries in his Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn't notice the dark sedan three cars away.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Cade Bentley turned down the road leading to his beach house. The memories of the house were bittersweet. Memories of a lifetime flooded his mind –- Anna and David collecting seashells, David building sandcastles, the three of them splashing in the waves. Cade turned the Jeep onto the driveway. He saw a hammock rocking in the wind – the hammock he and Anna had been laying in when the police came and told them about David. His 16-year-old son died taking a curve too fast, and crashing into a tree. Cade felt a tear escape and slide down his cheek. He wiped the tear away as he pulled into the garage.

Frankie entered the garage as Cade exited the Jeep and walked around back for the groceries.

"Here, Doctor, let me give you a hand." Frankie reached in and picked up a bag of groceries.

"Thanks, Frankie. I thought I should stock the shelves. I figured you guys were probably ready for some "real food" as my son used to say. I thought we could grill some burgers and fix a salad. I bought some soup for Templeton. He's not ready for solid food yet," said Cade.

Frankie grinned, "Ooh, let's get this stuff in, then. I'm starving!"

XXXXXXXXXX

Ian dialed his car phone. "Father, I'm outside Cade's beach house. I followed him from the grocery store. I believe he's hiding the A-Team here."

"Very good, Ian. You know what needs to be done."

"Yes, Father."

Ian returned the phone to its cradle. He knew what needed to be done. The same thing that had needed to be done to David Bentley. Ian thought back to the first time he had met David. Cade and Anna had hosted a dinner party welcoming him to Cade's practice. David had been there. Cade had introduced David to everyone, pride radiating from his face as he showed off his son. Ian had watched as father and son interacted. A pat on the back here. A touch on the arm there. Smiling. Laughing. Suddenly Ian knew that David had to go away.

It had been quite simple really. Ever since David had received the 1966 Mustang for his 16th birthday that summer, he would use any excuse to drive. He would run errands for his father. He would run errands for his mother. On Fridays he would pick up lunch at a local eatery and cater to the staff at his dad's practice.

Ian watched as David pulled out of the parking lot after taking down the staff's orders. Ian followed David at a distance and then pulled into the parking lot of the diner. He made up an excuse that his own car was acting up and asked if David could follow him home, just to make sure he made it okay. David had agreed.

Ian had pulled over to the side of the road. He got out of his car and raised his hood. David pulled in behind him. He got out of his own car and walked over to Ian. Ian immediately knocked him down and stabbed him directly in the heart. David had managed to plea for his life for a few seconds before he died. Ian had removed the knife. He found a tree branch and thrust it into the wound created by the knife. Then he placed David in his car and pushed it over the side of the road, crashing it into a tree. Everyone had assumed it was an unfortunate accident.

Ian thought that maybe with David gone, Cade would turn to him. Ian could be Cade's son. Cade would be proud of him. And it had worked. Cade was overcome with grief. He and Anna had secluded themselves for a while, but Ian had always made a point of dropping by to check on them. Ian had worked hard taking care of Cade's patients. Cade had come to respect him, depend on him. Cade was proud of him. Ian's own father never cared, had never been proud of him. Well, after tonight his father would be proud of him. After tonight, everything would be perfect.

Ian opened the glove compartment and retrieved his gun. He tucked it into his medical bag. Now all he could do was wait until dark.

XXXXXXXXX

_Face was walking. He didn't know where. He was just walking._

_A faceless woman and a priest were beside him. The woman was handing a child to the priest. "Take him. I don't want him."_

_Keep walking. Keep walking._

_He turned and 9-year-old Billy Johnson was walking beside him. "Hey Alvin, whatsa matter? Nobody want cha? I'm getting adopted you know. Gonna go live with a real family. Too bad nobody wants a loser like you."_

"_Yeah, nobody would want you Templeton." The voice belonged to Ellen. Face turned and Ellen was walking on the other side of him. She continued, "I'm glad you're not my brother. I can't believe you were stupid enough to believe you were my brother."_

_Face kept walking. Billy and Ellen disappeared. _

_Keep walking. Keep walking. _

_AJ Bancroft was beside him now. "Any man would be proud to call you son." _

_"I'm not your son!" yelled Face._

_Keep walking. Keep walking. _

"_You are special Lieutenant. You are mine." General Chao was beside Face, reaching for him. Face began to run._

Face began to stir and mumble in his sleep. "No, stay away from me." His head rocked back and forth. "Stay away from me. Please, please. Stop! God, no! Stop!" Face reached out.

"Shhh, Son, it's okay. It's okay. Wake up for me, Face. Wake up." Hannibal grasped Face's hands in his own.

Face slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room, trying to get his surroundings. His eyes locked with Hannibal's. He allowed himself to relax. Hannibal released Face's hands. He took a cloth and wiped the sweat from Face's forehead.

"Sorry, Hannibal. Guess I was dreaming," Face said softly.

"It's okay, Face. You've been through a lot. It's bound to make the nightmares surface. Do you want to talk about it?" asked Hannibal.

"No. Thanks. Do you think maybe I could sit out on the deck for a while?"

"Sure. I'll get BA. Just rest and we'll get a place set up for you." Hannibal went off in search of BA.

Murdock entered the atrium, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. "Hey, Face."

Face turned to Murdock. "Hey Murdock. Listen, I'm sorry about the way I treated you earlier. You didn't deserve it. I was just….upset. I took it out on you and I shouldn't have."

Murdock walked over to Face's bedside. "That's okay, Face. Can I….can I get you anything?"

Face smiled. "A Popsicle would be nice. Orange."

Murdock grinned. "Okay. One orange Popsicle coming right up."

Murdock turned toward the kitchen. He stopped and turned back to Face. "I'm sorry about Ellen and AJ, Face."

Face offered up a ghost of a smile. "Thanks, Murdock."

Murdock walked to the kitchen.

Face turned and looked through the windows out to the ocean. He could hear Murdock and Frankie in the kitchen. He saw BA and Hannibal putting cushions on a deck chair. He was surrounded by people he knew cared about him, but he felt alone. Very alone.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Face turned and found Cade pulling up a chair beside his bed.

"I don't do anything for a penny. Offer me a nickel and we've got a deal." Face smiled.

Cade spoke, "You remind me of my son. He had the same blond hair, blue-green eyes – and he would throw up smoke screens whenever he was upset. Just like you are now."

Face turned to stare out the window. Hannibal and BA were apparently having a discussion about which way to face the deck chair.

Cade continued. "I know you've been through a lot. You've lost your sister and your father in less than a year –"

"Ellen wasn't my sister."

"In your heart she was. You loved her. You're grieving for her now. That's perfectly understandable."

"What would you know about it," Face asked, anger in voice.

"I lost my son and wife within a year's time. My 16-year-old son died in a car accident. My wife died of cancer a year later. I'd say I'm an expert at grieving. I know what it's like to feel alone in a room full of people, to feel like your heart is simply going to shrivel up and die. But you have to go on, Templeton. You've got a family surrounding you right now. Hannibal, BA, and Murdock love you, Templeton. Lean on them. They want to be there for you. You're a strong man. I saw you in the hospital in Vietnam. You were a fighter then. I saw you die in front of me just days ago, but you fought your way back. Keep fighting."

Face stared at Cade as he spoke. "I…I remember you in 'Nam. You're the one who signed the papers that I could go back to my unit. I never got to thank you."

Cade smiled at Face. "You're welcome, Templeton. Now, I believe Murdock is growing impatient standing outside the doorway, and your Popsicle is probably melting," Cade turned toward the doorway, "Right Murdock?"

Murdock entered with a guilty smile on his face. "Uh, yeah, well, I didn't want to interrupt and uh, well,….here's your Popsicle, Face." Murdock handed the Popsicle to Face.

Face laughed, then sucked in a deep breath as the laugh caused a spasm of pain.

"I'm sorry, Face. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Murdock. I need to laugh. And thanks for the Popsicle."

Cade rose from the chair and walked back toward the kitchen, a smile on his face.

"Doc—"

"Call me Cade."

"Cade. Thanks. For everything."

"Sure thing, Son."

XXXXXXXX

"Carla, send for the car. I'm going to beach house. If Ian fails, I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"Yes, General."

XXXXXXXX

Ian quietly exited his car and made his way to the back of the beach house. It was dark outside, but the back deck was lit up brightly. Face was sitting in a deck chair, swathed in blankets. Cade was sitting beside him. Hannibal was grilling burgers. Murdock, Frankie, and BA sat around the table. Voices carried in the wind.

"I told you, Fool, don't nobody put ham on a burger."

"But they're called hamburgers."

"That don't mean they put ham on the burgers."

"BA's right Murdock. Who would put ham on their burgers?"

"I would."

"You're crazy."

"No I'm not, remember?"

"If I say you're crazy, you're crazy."

Hannibal interrupted the conversation. "Okay, guys. Burgers are done. Everybody dig in."

Hannibal joined the others at the table. Cade and Face remained seated where they were. Face was sipping soup from a cup, as was Cade.

"Cade, you can eat a hamburger if you want. You don't have to settle for soup on my account," said Face.

"I like soup, Templeton," said Cade.

Face looked at him doubtfully.

Ian worked his way up the steps of the deck.

Cade stood. "Ian, what are you doing here?"

All conversation stopped and everyone looked at Ian.

Ian stammered. "I, uh, saw you headed this way after work. Thought maybe you were coming to the beach house. I know you hadn't been here since Anna ….well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I see you moved Peck here. Do you need any help with anything? I brought my bag."

"Oh. Well, that's very thoughtful of you, but we've got things under control. You want to pull up a chair and join us?" Cade stood.

Ian hesitated. "Sure, thanks." Ian approached the table and sat between Frankie and Murdock.

Hannibal passed a plate to Ian, not saying a word. He glanced at BA as if to say 'Keep an eye out. I don't trust him.' BA nodded slightly.

A few minutes passed. BA stood. "I'm going to get some more milk." He walked toward the kitchen. He turned back; making sure no one had followed him in. He went into one of the bedrooms and took a pistol out of his bag. He tucked it into one of the side pockets in his pants. He opened Hannibal's bag in order to retrieve his pistol, and noticed it wasn't there. 'I should have known,' he thought.

BA then went to the kitchen and poured a glass of milk. He carried it out to the deck and rejoined the others.

Ian had finished his hamburger. He stood and walked over to Cade and Face. Face yawned, and his head lolled to his right shoulder. "Cade, it looks like maybe your patient needs to get back in bed."

Cade smiled. "I think you're right."

Face jerked his head up and opened his eyes. "Oh, come on, let me stay just a few more minutes. I just—" he yawned again, "want to stay out here. I just—" his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

Having seen Face lose his battle to stay awake, BA approached Cade and Ian. "I'll take him inside." BA scooped Face up off the deck chair, covers and all.

Face opened his eyes halfway. "I'm not a baby. I can walk."

BA smiled down at Face. "Sure you can. But we're already inside, so just relax and enjoy the ride."

Face closed his eyes and whispered, "Thanks, BA."

"No problem, Little Brother." He gently placed Face back in the bed. He took the covers from the deck chair and threw them onto the couch, then pulled the bedcovers up around Face.

Hannibal smiled watching the scene of Face and BA. He had always marveled at how BA, a man who could reduce an enemy to tears with just a look, could be so gentle with those he cared about. BA stayed by Face's bedside until he was sure he was asleep. He walked slowly away, toward Hannibal. He could hear Murdock and Frankie cleaning up from the meal, plates and silverware clanging together.

Cade quietly approached the bedside and placed the back of his hand against Face's forehead, then checked his pulse. Satisfied with his findings, he walked over to Hannibal and BA. Ian followed behind him.

He spoke quietly. "He's fine, just tired. But the fresh air did him good. He should sleep for a while now."

Cade motioned toward the couches. He and Ian sat on one couch; BA and Hannibal sat on the other so that they could keep a watchful on eye on Face. After a few minutes, Murdock and Frankie joined them, each sitting in an armchair.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Hannibal stood. "Why don't I go make us some coffee?"

Murdock jumped to his feet. "I'll help you Hannibal."

Hannibal and Murdock excused themselves to the kitchen.

XXXXXXXXX

"Murdock, I don't know what Ian's doing here, but I don't buy his story of just happening to see Cade come out this way. Do you have your gun with you?" Hannibal asked.

"Not with me. It's---" Murdock's sentence was cut off by a scream coming from the other room.

Hannibal and Murdock ran into the atrium.

Cade was standing over Face on one side, BA on the other. Face was in the throes of a nightmare. Frankie stood in the corner, eyes wide. He had seen Face have nightmares before, but never this bad.

Face screamed a primal scream, and then began to speak in Vietnamese. BA was trying to hold him down. Hannibal reached around BA and began to stroke Face's hair.

"Calm down, Face. Calm down." Hannibal spoke softly.

Face continued to thrash about, oblivious to everything around him. He kicked his covers off and tried to wrestle himself free of BA's grip.

Murdock watched Face. He slowly backed up against the wall and slid slowly down to the floor, his own memories of the camps threatening to surface.

Cade yelled, "Ian, get a tranquilizer. Hurry!"

Ian walked to Cade's side holding his medical bag. He reached in.

"Hurry up, Ian! We've got to get him calm!"

Ian smiled. "Sorry, Cade. No can do." He pulled the gun out of his bag and aimed it at Face. He pulled the trigger.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The scene played out in slow motion. Ian leveled the gun at Face and pulled the trigger. Before the bullet was released, Cade pushed Ian's arm up, sending the shot into the wall behind Face's bed. BA had used his body to shield Face, who was still in the throes of the nightmare.

Hannibal pulled his pistol from the waistband of his pants and pointed it at Ian.

"Drop it. Now."

Ian held onto the gun, and turned to face Hannibal. "I can't. I've got to kill you and Peck. I've got to make Father proud."

Cade took a step toward Ian. "C'mon Son, put it down. It's going to be okay."

Ian held his gaze on Hannibal as he spoke to Cade. "No. I've got to do this."

Hannibal took one step toward Ian. "Look. I don't want to hurt you, but I will shoot if you don't put down your gun."

Ian stepped back a couple of steps. He shifted his aim from Hannibal to Face. Back and forth, his eyes darting wildly.

Murdock stood, the sound of the bullet bringing him back to reality. Frankie walked slowly over to him. Together they walked toward Ian.

Seeing them out of the corner of his eye, Ian cocked the gun. "Stay back! I'll kill him!"

Frankie and Murdock stood still.

Cade spoke in a soothing voice, "Ian, put the gun away. Come on, now. Just put the gun away."

Face began to quiet down, oblivious to the scene playing out before him. BA loosened his grip. He dropped his right hand to his side, and bent down to retrieve his gun from his side pocket. He leveled it at Ian. "Drop it."

"Okay, okay. You win." Ian said. His grip on the gun relaxed, but he continued to hold on it.

Hannibal and BA approached Ian. Hannibal was on his left, BA on his right.

Cade took another step toward Ian. "Come on now, son. Give me the gun."

Ian's grip tightened on the gun. He thrust it to his own head.

Hannibal and BA froze.

Cade continued talking to Ian. "Come on, Ian. Put the gun down. We'll work this out. Just put the gun down."

A tear slid down Ian's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Cade." He squeezed his eyes shut. Suddenly, he thrust out his arm and pointed the gun back at Face. He pulled the trigger, but not before Cade stepped in front of the gun. Cade fell to the floor.

A split second after the shot went off, Hannibal pulled the trigger of his own gun. The bullet hit Ian in the chest, blood turning his blue shirt to crimson.

Hannibal kicked Ian's gun away, and Murdock picked it up off the floor. BA knelt beside Cade and pulled him to the sitting position. Cade held onto his left arm, blood running between his fingers. He tried to scoot on the floor toward Ian.

"Somebody get my bag. And some towels. I've got to put pressure on this wound," ordered Cade.

Hannibal motioned for Frankie to go to the kitchen to retrieve Cade's bag and towels. "Cade, you're hit."

Cade looked up at Hannibal. "It's not bad. It just grazed me, that's all." He turned back to Ian. " I've got to stop this bleeding."

XXXXXXXXX

"Okay. Two shots. Let's go."

The driver drove the car to the house. Stockwell got out, accompanied by Abels 5, 17, and 23.

They stealthily made their way through the garage and opened the door leading to the kitchen. They saw Frankie opening a drawer, getting a stack of dishtowels.

Stockwell motioned to Abel 5. Frankie's back was to the men as he turned to retrieve Cade's medical bag off the countertop. Abel 5 used the butt of his gun to hit the back of Frankie's head, rendering him unconscious.

"Cuff him," said Stockwell. "Then stay in here and stand guard."

XXXXXXXXXX

BA processed what Cade had just said. The bullet only grazed him. If the bullet hadn't stopped in Cade's arm, then where was it? BA stood and raced back to Face. BA could see blood staining the sheets covering Face. "Hannibal, Face has been shot!"

Hannibal ran to BA and Face, Murdock behind him. The bullet appeared to have lodged in Face's left shoulder. Face's eyes fluttered open. "Hannibal, BA…what happened?"

"Face, you've been shot. I want you to stay still." Hannibal turned to Murdock. "Ball up this sheet and put pressure on his wound."

Murdock pulled the sheet and bunched it together, then applied pressure to Face's shoulder.

Cade was trying to staunch the bleeding from Ian's chest. "Somebody come apply pressure here and I'll check on Templeton. Where are the towels and my bag?"

Hannibal's head shot up. Frankie should have been back in here by now. Hannibal headed toward the kitchen.

"Gentlemen. You may drop your weapons now." Stockwell hissed.

Hannibal stopped in his tracks. "Go to hell, Stockwell."

"My, my Colonel. I hardly think that's the proper way to speak to me." Stockwell motioned at Abel 17, who promptly walked to Face's bedside, gun drawn. "If you don't put down your weapons, I'll kill Peck."

Hannibal released the grip on his gun, then set it on the floor. BA followed suit.

Stockwell continued, "Now, I want you to stand against the wall over there," he motioned to the far wall of the atrium.

"But I've got to put pressure on his wound," said Murdock.

"Captain, if you don't step away from him, I will give him a fatal wound." Stockwell smiled.

Hannibal, BA, and Murdock backed up against the wall. Abels 17 and 23 had their weapons drawn, guarding them.

He walked over to Cade, who was trying desperately to stop the blood seeping from Ian's chest. "Dr. Bentley, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Hunt Stockwell, Ian's father. I've heard a lot about you."

Cade looked up at Stockwell, "He's dying. Let me treat him, please."

Stockwell laughed. "I don't think you'll want to do that when I tell you what he did. You see, Ian killed your son. Stabbed him in the heart. Then he impaled him with a tree branch and crashed his car into some trees."

Cade's face paled. "You're lying. Ian would never do something like that."

Stockwell continued. "It's the truth. He called me after he did it. He wanted to make sure the death wasn't investigated too thoroughly. You see, I'd helped him out before, when he murdered his best friend from medical school. Seems he was jealous of the poor man's relationship with his father."

Ian's eyes opened halfway. He saw Cade bending over him and felt him pressing against his chest. He looked up and saw his father staring down at him. "Father, I tried…..I really did…"

Stockwell frowned. "You failed, Ian. Just like I thought you would."

A trickle of blood escaped from Ian's mouth. Cade turned his attention to Ian. "Is it true, Ian? Did you kill my son?"

A tear made it's way down Ian's cheek as he weakly nodded his head. "I'm…sorry….Cade. I….just wanted…..you to…..love me….like David. Wanted….to….make you….proud."

Hannibal heard the conversations going on, but never took his eyes off Face. Face was rocking his head back and forth. He brought his right hand up to his injured left shoulder.

Stockwell knelt next to Ian. "You can't even die like a man. You're a sniveling coward. I'm ashamed to have you as a son." He stood slowly.

Cade's mind was wrestling with anger and pity at the same time. Ian closed his eyes and his breathing became ragged, his voice a whisper. "My…car. Diary.…..I'm…..sorry."

Cade bent down to Ian's ear. "It's okay now, son. Go to sleep."

Ian opened his eyes one last time and smiled.

Stockwell motioned to Cade with his gun. "Okay, he's dead. Now you go join the others."

Cade rose slowly, then walked over and stood next to Murdock at the far end of the wall.

Hannibal reached in his pocket and pulled out his cigar.

Stockwell smiled. "Yes, go ahead and smoke Smith. It's going to be your last. You know, it's really a pity that our relationship has to end this way. I have nothing against Baracas, Santana, or Murdock. And the doctor here is truly an innocent bystander. But, some things can't be helped."

Hannibal took the cigar out of his mouth. "You can at least tell us why, Stockwell."

"Yes, I guess you do deserve an explanation, Smith." Stockwell walked toward Hannibal and the men. "I don't like you. You're like a thorn in my side. You cost me a small fortune when Chou and Angel were arrested. Losing is not something I accept lightly – something you and I have in common."

Hannibal paused. "Okay. But why Face? He's been no threat to you."

"Ah, but you see, Peck is your Achilles heel. If he suffers, you suffer." Stockwell glanced at Face, who was lying with his hand still pressing against his shoulder, eyes clenched shut, obviously in pain. He turned back to Hannibal. "I knew if you couldn't prevent Peck from dying, it would destroy you." Stockwell smiled and turned back to face Hannibal.

Hannibal watched as Face slowly snaked his hand under the pillow. Face's eyes opened briefly and locked onto Hannibal's. He blinked three times.

Hannibal spoke, "You're probably right. Face is like a son to me. Not that you know what a relationship like that feels like." Hannibal glanced down at Ian's body. "You know, Stockwell, I could teach you a few things. One, you should really learn to lighten up. Too much stress can make you cranky." Hannibal stole a glance at BA and Murdock before continuing. "Two, you might want to wear looser underwear. You know what they say about wearing it too tight." Hannibal looked at Face. "Three, you might want to say goodbye."

Face pulled Murdock's gun from under his pillow and fired at Stockwell, the bullet slamming into his brain, killing him instantly. At the same time, BA and Murdock rushed Abels 17 and 23, knocking them to the floor and retrieving their weapons. Hannibal rushed to Face's side and retrieved the gun, training it on the Abels. "BA, go check on Frankie."

BA entered the kitchen just as Frankie kicked a distracted Abel 5 in the back. BA grabbed his gun, then reached in the man's suit pocket for the handcuff keys. After freeing Frankie from the cuffs, they both walked back into the atrium, BA pulling Abel 5 by the tie around his neck.

Murdock and Hannibal tied the Abels wrists together and pushed them onto one the couches. BA did the same with Abel 5. Cade had immediately gone to Face's bedside and checked his shoulder wound. The bullet had passed through, causing minimal damage.

Stockwell lay on the floor three feet from his son. Both men facing each other, but neither one seeing the other.

XXXXXXXXX

The A-Team and Cade Bentley stepped out of the federal courthouse slowly. BA held onto Face's arm, helping to keep him steady. Reporters immediately began to surround them, shoving microphones to their faces, shouting questions. A crowd of spectators cheered.

"What did the President say to you when he issued your pardons?"

"Had General Stockwell removed any other parts of the original diary?"

"Is it true that General Stockwell was the mastermind of the bank robbery?"

"Will you be going to back to Los Angeles?"

"How do you feel about the military now?"

Hannibal raised his hand to silence the reporters. "I'm going to make a statement." Hannibal pulled a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket and read. "First of all, I would like to thank Dr. Cade Bentley for saving the life of Lt. Peck, and in a sense, saving us all." Hannibal turned to face Cade. "Thank you."

Hannibal continued reading, "We've been on the run for 15 years. During that time, we helped a lot of people. But a lot of people helped us as well. People who believed in us. Believed in our innocence. To those people we say thank you. We love this country. We support our troops. We do not blame the military for the misguided judgments of a few men. We are looking forward to returning to Los Angeles as free men. It was a long time coming."

Hannibal and the men descended the steps slowly and approached a waiting limousine.

Cade offered his hand to Hannibal. "Well, keep an eye on my patient Hannibal. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to call."

Hannibal returned the handshake. "Same goes for you, Cade. I don't have the words to thank you for what you did for Face, for us all."

Cade turned to leave. Face reached out to him, putting his hand on his arm. "Cade, uh, listen. Thanks for everything. Not just the medical care, but for helping me to see that I do have a family. If you ever need anything, or just need to talk, you know how to reach me."

Cade pulled Face into an embrace, "Thanks, son." He released his hold on Face and wiped a tear from his eye. He waved to the men, then turned and worked his way through the crowd.

Hannibal tugged on Face's sleeve. "Let's go, Face. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to go home."

Just as they were about to enter the limousine, a reporter approached them. "You've just been pardoned by the President of the United States. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

Hannibal reached into his pocket, looking for a cigar. Face reached into his own pocket and produced one, handing it to Hannibal, who promptly lit it. He looked at his men. They were looking at him, grins on their faces, anticipating….knowing what Hannibal's answer would be.

"Yes, there is one thing I'd like to say. I love it when a plan comes together." Hannibal smiled.

The End


End file.
